Trehalose traces its roots to 19th-century discoveries, especially after the identification in trehala manna from desert locusts. This sugar started gaining attention when scientists noticed its role in the survival of yeast and certain plants under extreme drought. Researchers found trehalose in baker's yeast and later in a long list of mushrooms, insects, and crustaceans. As food preservation grew important, trehalose caught the eye of food chemists for its stabilizing effects in desiccation. The road from curiosity to industrial production took time — mostly because the world already leaned on familiar sugars like sucrose and glucose, but Japanese researchers in the 1990s unlocked a cost-effective enzyme method to manufacture trehalose at scale. This breakthrough led to a burst in availability for food, cosmetics, and pharmaceuticals, showing how practical advances drive adoption more than theoretical promise.
Trehalose looks and tastes like a mild sugar and feels much like a fine, white powder. Though it pops up in mushrooms and insects, most commercial supplies come from starch conversion, handled through a two-step enzymatic process. Food companies often blend trehalose into energy drinks, bakery products, and frozen meals, aiming for better shelf life and texture. Beyond the food scene, trehalose steps into skincare — known for its moisture-locking charm — and serves researchers as a model compound for cell preservation studies. Even pet food producers show interest, fed by its protective qualities in dry conditions, reflecting a spread of confidence in a sugar that’s more than just sweet.
Trehalose stands out as a non-reducing disaccharide made of two glucose units joined by an α,α-1,1 linkage. Its chemical formula, C12H22O11, and molecular weight, 342.3 g/mol, set it apart from household sugars. It holds strong under heat, showing little browning or caramelization thanks to its stable bond. Trehalose dissolves quickly in water and remains clear, so products using it avoid cloudiness — a bonus in beverages and jams. This sugar resists acid and enzymatic breakdown better than maltose or sucrose, so it lines up well for recipes needing long storage or high-heat processing. In my time testing food ingredients, trehalose consistently handled the job without clogging machinery or slowing down workflows, adding to its appeal for large-scale production.
Packaged trehalose often comes in 25-kg bags or smaller, marked with purity above 98%, negligible ash, and tight moisture limits to prevent clumping. Labeling stays straightforward, using the term “trehalose” and, for EU markets, its E-number (E-963). Certifications cover kosher, halal, food-grade, and EU allergen-free status, supporting distribution across varied markets. In North America, trehalose hits ingredient lists as “trehalose (from starch),” building transparency for food buyers worried about GMOs or synthetic additives. I’ve noticed a shift with manufacturers toward batch testing for pathogens and heavy metals, an extra step that reassures downstream users about safety in infant formula or nutritional powders. Reliable labeling helps avoid regulatory headaches, setting up a smoother supply chain all around.
Industry-scale trehalose production begins with starch hydrolysis — usually from corn, wheat, or tapioca. Manufacturers introduce enzymes such as maltooligosyltrehalose synthase and trehalohydrolase, coaxing starch fragments into trehalose through controlled reactions. Filtration and purification steps follow, stripping away color, flavor, or any leftover enzyme traces. The process winds up with spray-drying into a uniform powder. Over a decade in food development, I’ve seen this production approach slash costs and raise output compared to older chemical synthesis, which demanded more hazardous solvents and complicated clean-up. Efficient upstream steps not only keep production lines moving but also lower the carbon footprint — more companies are tracking sustainability in their supply chain, especially as food markets seek new certifications.
Trehalose reacts mildly in most common food and lab situations. The unique α,α-1,1 glycosidic bond resists acid hydrolysis, guarding against breakdown in syrups or acidic sauces. Scientists searching for custom applications tweak trehalose through selective functionalization, building derivatives for uses like targeted drug delivery or improved protein stabilization. For specific research, modified trehalose — such as methotrehalose or fluorescent-labeled trehalose — shows up as a tracer or imaging marker in cell biology. Some projects attach lipid tails to trehalose, building membrane-friendly versions that blend into pharmaceutical coatings. Chemical stability, low reactivity, and the ease of glycoside formation put trehalose in the lab toolkit for more than just sweetening — its modular backbone welcomes all sorts of creative chemistry.
Across the globe, trehalose pops up under a few standout names: mycose (in reference to its presence in fungi), tremalose, and α-D-glucopyranosyl-α-D-glucopyranoside. Product names in industry catalogs stick with “trehalose dihydrate” or “food-grade trehalose,” paired with the supplier’s brand. Listing these names in safety data sheets helps workers sync up regulatory and import documentation, smoothing the way for shipments crossing borders. Most ingredient buyers focus on the trehalose label, but specialty vendors might highlight origin or purity — mushroom-derived, plant-based, or synthetic. Clear naming avoids cross-contamination mistakes in food plants and keeps research orders on target, where swapping the wrong sugar could botch months of work.
Trehalose enjoys strong backing for safety, with approvals from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA), and health agencies in Asia. Handling standards call for clean, moisture-controlled storage, protective clothing, and dust extraction when transferring powder. In my experience, proper warehouse setup prevents accidental spills and slip hazards — a small investment compared to the expense of equipment shutdowns for deep cleaning. Factories monitor environmental dust limits, supporting respiratory health for workers. Annual audits check for batch consistency, food allergens, and accidental cross-contact with wheat or gluten. Chemical hygiene plans stress trehalose’s stability but encourage a “do no harm” culture, where continuous improvement keeps risks in check, reflecting lessons learned from broader food safety lapses.
Food and nutrition lead the list, with trehalose helping chocolate stay glossy, fruit slices avoid freezer burn, and protein shakes last longer on the shelf. Chefs and manufacturers lean on trehalose to keep bread moist and sushi rice tender without tearing or clumping. Pharmaceutical scientists see trehalose as a hands-on stabilizer for sensitive drugs like antibodies or vaccines. Cell biologists favor it to freeze and store living cells, with survival rates boosted by trehalose’s knack for water retention. Cosmetics companies tout it in lotions and serums, tapping its “nature’s moisturizer” reputation to attract skin-conscious consumers. In my consulting work, I’ve seen pet food brands launch grain-free treats featuring trehalose for shelf life and improved texture. Niche uses keep growing: bioplastics, electronic coolants, and even 3D printing resins tap trehalose’s thermal properties, showing its appeal beyond what most shoppers expect from a simple sugar.
Laboratories worldwide study trehalose for its unusual protective effects under heat, cold, or desiccation. Teams engineering probiotic powders have explored coating bacteria with trehalose, prepping them to survive harsh stomach acid. Nanomedicine researchers pair trehalose with drug-loaded nanoparticles, aiming for longer-lasting medicines that reach damaged tissues intact. I’ve witnessed beverage innovation centers run dozens of trials — swapping trehalose for conventional sugars to fine-tune body and mouthfeel. In biochemistry, trehalose sees daily use as a gentle unfold-refold agent for proteins, reviving denatured samples and extending shelf life. Global investment in “cryopreservation” — long-term storage for stem cells, reproductive materials, and rare plants — depends on trehalose to prevent crystal damage during freezing. The more scientists dig, the more they uncover about its uses, making R&D the real engine behind expanding applications.
Major safety studies put trehalose among the lowest-risk sweeteners on the market, with no evidence for carcinogenicity or reproductive harm at typical levels. Rats and mice tolerate high doses for weeks with only minor gastrointestinal changes — temporary bloating at intakes several times higher than any human diet. Allergenicity testing shows no cross-reactivity with nut, shellfish, or gluten proteins, so it poses near-zero risk for triggering immune responses. One field receiving ongoing attention involves likely impacts of trehalose on gut bacteria. Some early studies hint at minor changes in the gut microbiome when diets feature large daily amounts, but reviews so far haven’t flagged clinical risks. As use expands, regular surveillance will matter — especially in populations with rare metabolic disorders involving trehalase enzyme deficiency. Toxicology teams keep close tabs, publishing updates, though after years of widespread use, real-world evidence backs its reputation as a safe choice for the broader population.
Trehalose attracts investment in future foods, green manufacturing, and even medicine. Plant-based and alternative protein industries test it for keeping meat analogs juicy after freezing. Biopharma eyes it for next-gen vaccine delivery, while aging research continues to track links between trehalose and autophagy — the body’s internal cell recycling process. A few food giants experiment with trehalose-infused packaging to reduce spoilage in long-haul transport. Future development promises cheaper bioprocesses, thanks to gene-edited enzymes and upcycling of agricultural waste as raw material. The UN targets for sustainable food systems name ingredients like trehalose as key players in extending shelf life and slashing energy use in cold chains. As a working ingredient, trehalose bridges old-fashioned preservation with high-tech biology — the kind of upgrade that often starts behind the scenes and ends up on family tables, lab benches, and storeroom shelves.
Trehalose shows up in a surprising range of places, playing a bigger role than most realize. It’s a type of sugar, but don’t let that description fool you into lumping it with regular table sugar. The molecule comes from two glucose units linked with a bond tricky for many organisms to break down, and that unusual partnership earns trehalose a spot in the stress-protection toolkit of the natural world. Yeast, fungi, insects, and even some desert plants rely on trehalose to lock up water and defend their cells from drying out, extreme cold, and heat.
Japanese researchers cracked the code on industrial trehalose production in the 1990s, using enzymes to turn starch into this unique sugar on a large scale. That breakthrough paved the way for commercial use, making it affordable for food and pharmaceutical companies. Now trehalose pops up in everything from protein bars to skin creams.
Most folks running a home kitchen probably won’t recognize it, but trehalose has qualities that matter in a big way to people designing food or drug products. It has a mild sweetness, about half as much as traditional sugar, which means it won’t overload your palate. It stabilizes proteins and preserves cell membranes better than many sugars, so it helps baked goods stay soft and keeps frozen foods from degrading as fast.
I've baked breads with trehalose in place of sucrose once or twice, partly out of curiosity, and found that bread with trehalose kept a fresher, moister crumb longer in the fridge – small surprise, given how its presence resists crystallization and water loss. Pastry chefs often look for these little improvements.
Trehalose also comes with a lower glycemic index compared to regular sugar, possibly causing slower blood-sugar rises. Some see it as a potential boon for diabetics or anyone hoping to moderate sugar spikes, though it’s not calorie-free and the evidence isn’t settled.
The story shifts a bit outside the baking aisle. Trehalose doesn’t just satisfy the needs of food scientists; pathogens have taken notice, too. A handful of studies from the last decade, including one out of Baylor College of Medicine, have raised concerns about Clostridioides difficile, a nasty bacteria that causes dangerous gut infections. Some strains get a boost from trehalose, using it to thrive in the human gut. The spike in trehalose use in the early 2000s seems to line up with more difficult outbreaks in certain parts of the world. The link still sparks debate, but it highlights how an ingredient with great benefits can sometimes carry risks.
Balanced use comes down to assessing real-world impact, not just chemical properties. Manufacturers ought to keep safety data up front and stay watchful for unintended consequences, especially as global supply chains introduce trehalose into new diets.
Some researchers see trehalose as a potential treatment for neurodegenerative diseases. Early studies in animals suggest it might help clear out toxic proteins from cells, like a molecular street sweeper, but human data trails far behind. The food industry clearly prizes its stabilizing qualities. In Japan, trehalose has even begun to pop up as a mild, less cloying sweetener in confections.
Consumers benefit most when information keeps pace with research. Trehalose can improve shelf life, texture, and possibly health in specific cases, but it shouldn’t be dropped into diets without homework. Transparent labeling and continuing safety reviews will matter as it shows up in more products. Food doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and neither do the ingredients we introduce in the name of progress.
Trehalose shows up in all sorts of processed snacks, baked goods, energy drinks, and even some high-end restaurant treats. The main reason companies use this sugar is because it preserves texture, retains moisture, and carries a clean, mild sweetness without taking over the flavor. Japan has—no surprise here—built an entire candy industry on trehalose since the early 2000s. In my own kitchen, I’ve tried trehalose to make bread extra soft, and the results honestly beat regular sugar for shelf life and that bakery-style crumb.
The substance itself isn’t artificial. Many mushrooms, some seafood, and yeasts naturally include trehalose. Companies mostly make it by breaking down starch from sources like corn or tapioca. It looks and tastes a bit like table sugar, just less sweet.
Most of the world considers trehalose safe. The US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) labeled it GRAS ("Generally Recognized As Safe"). European authorities echo this stance. The Joint FAO/WHO Expert Committee on Food Additives gives it a thumbs up for human diets. These groups ran the numbers on toxicity, allergic reactions, and long-term health effects, and they came up empty—no signals of trouble, even at amounts that go beyond anything you’d see in a normal meal.
Digestion works like you’d expect. The body splits trehalose using an enzyme called trehalase in the small intestine. As long as that enzyme works properly—which applies to almost everyone—trehalose breaks down into glucose, so the body treats it a lot like any other carbohydrate. For most folks, eating trehalose in food doesn’t spike blood sugar quite as rapidly as table sugar, so it fits in diets focused on steady energy levels. That mild impact earned it fans in sports nutrition and among people dealing with type 2 diabetes.
A few years ago, some headlines declared trehalose as a possible problem after research linked it to the dangerous bacteria Clostridium difficile in the gut. Some outlets took that research and ran scare stories about food additives feeding disease. The actual picture sits closer to gray than black and white. Laboratory work showed C. difficile can grow better in high-trehalose, high-antibiotic situations—basically, in test tubes or mice given huge doses that far outpace anything in real food. The authors of the study did not call for a ban or suggest trehalose was unsafe for humans in normal use.
People with extremely rare trehalase deficiency should steer clear because they can’t properly digest it, leading to bloating or discomfort after big doses. This condition pops up mostly in people of Scandinavian or Greenlandic descent and remains rare overall.
Ingredients get a bad rap fast these days, sometimes based on laboratory findings that struggle to translate to a regular meal or snack. Experience in my own household with trehalose has shown no difference in well-being after switching from regular sugar in occasional recipes—if anything, it’s easier on the stomach. Talking to dietitians and looking through clinical studies, no solid risk for the general population has shown up. Still, I try not to chase foods with any added sugar, trehalose included, mainly because high sugar diets connect with health troubles down the road.
If there’s a solution, it’s not in panic or label-watching alone. Moderation works. I check for added sugars broadly rather than worry about trehalose alone. For people with unique medical conditions or allergies, a chat with a doctor beats anything you read online. If you aren’t part of a group with special sensitivities, science and practical use point to trehalose as a safe option among the many sweeteners found in today’s foods.
Trehalose often goes under the radar when people talk about sweeteners. This sugar crops up in mushrooms, honey, and even baker’s yeast. Manufacturers dig it out of starch and toss it into food for its power to hold moisture and keep things from getting stale. It promises a gentle sweetness, and it’s turning heads far beyond the food industry.
Whenever hunger strikes and energy feels low, the hunt for lasting fuel begins. Trehalose passes as an energy source that the gut takes in slowly. Because it breaks down more gradually than regular sugar, it avoids spikes and crashes in blood glucose, so there’s a smoother ride for both endurance athletes and everyday folks. Runners, cyclists, and weekend warriors see trehalose as a handy carb for long sessions without feeling drained or jittery.
Gut health shapes overall wellness. Unlike regular table sugar, trehalose needs a special digestive enzyme. This means it travels a bit further in the gut and may feed a broader range of healthy bacteria. Some research on animals shows trehalose can act as a prebiotic, encouraging good microbes. In my own routine, swapping regular sugar for trehalose in smoothies led to less digestive upset, especially before busy workdays.
Brain and nerve cells face constant pressure from stress and inflammation. Scientists highlight autophagy—the process cells use to clean house and remove damaged parts—as one line of defense. Trehalose gets attention here since cell studies show it helps kickstart autophagy. There’s talk about its potential to slow the buildup of junk proteins that appear in disorders like Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. So far, most strong evidence comes from lab and animal tests. Long-term studies in humans have yet to seal the deal.
Many people chasing better blood sugar control look for ways to dodge spikes. Because trehalose’s slower breakdown means lower glycemic response, it’s a favorite for those who keep tabs on glucose. Clinical trials find that swapping out regular sugar for trehalose leads to a gentler bump in blood sugar. For people managing prediabetes or Type 2 diabetes, small steps like this can mean fewer cravings and steadier moods. I’ve noticed in my own family, after replacing part of our sweetener with trehalose, we experience less of the afternoon slump after meals.
Additives that promise both safety and real health perks don’t show up often. Trehalose acts as a natural stabilizer and keeps foods moist without the need for chemical preservatives. This means fewer worries about spoilage while cutting back on synthetic additives. Studies reviewing its safety haven’t flagged major issues for healthy people, though those with a rare enzyme deficiency should steer clear.
No ingredient stands as a silver bullet. Some researchers raised red flags about how trehalose might influence certain gut bacteria that thrive in hospitals and cause infections. Keeping intake in moderate ranges and staying tuned to ongoing research makes sense. On the practical side, more education helps people tell the difference between pricey marketing claims and tested benefits. While trehalose opens the door to fresher foods and steadier energy, it still works best as part of a balanced, whole-food lifestyle. As more data pours in, the real ceiling of what trehalose can do will get clearer, and we’ll have a stronger sense of its place in the modern kitchen.
Trehalose has started popping up in everything from energy drinks to fancy desserts. Some see it as a healthy alternative to regular sugar. After all, if food packaging flags something as “plant-based” or “natural,” people let their guard down. It’s easy to overlook the small details on the back of a package. Trehalose isn’t new, but its recent popularity shows people want sweet options that don’t mess with blood sugar as much as the usual suspects.
Trehalose is made of two glucose molecules stuck together. Your gut splits them apart with the help of a special enzyme, trehalase, releasing glucose into the bloodstream. Glucose matters because it’s the sugar that pushes blood sugar readings up.
The pitch is that trehalose digests a bit slower than table sugar, so there’s less of a spike. But for someone watching blood sugar closely – maybe because of diabetes or prediabetes – even smaller changes matter. That’s not just theory. In a 2018 study from the European Journal of Nutrition, healthy volunteers taking trehalose showed a lower blood sugar jump compared to standard glucose. Their insulin response, which drives sugars from blood into muscles and fat, didn’t shoot up as sharply, either.
I’ve watched people try every sugar swap out there. Stevia, monk fruit, erythritol, and now trehalose. Dietitians nod approvingly at the idea of a “lower glycemic index” because it means fewer sugar rushes and crashes. But some of my friends test their sugars after meals, and the results with trehalose aren’t always predictable. For someone without enough trehalase, the sugar might cause stomach upset or pass through mostly unchanged. That’s frustrating for people searching for a sure-fire “healthier” sweetener.
Food companies use trehalose because it keeps bakery products soft and stable. But replacement doesn’t solve the bigger problem: too many ultra-sweet, highly processed foods in the first place. Most folks do better with limited sweets, no matter what kind of sugar shows up in the ingredients list.
It’s tempting to fall for buzzwords over actual health impact. Someone fighting high blood sugar isn’t saved by a switch to trehalose if the rest of their diet and activity haven’t changed. Skipping straight to the next trendy sugar leaves underlying habits untouched.
If you’re curious about trehalose, check how your own body reacts. Small experiments at home with a glucose meter deliver more insight than marketing promises. For people managing diabetes, bring any new ingredient up to the healthcare team. Right now, science points to trehalose having a smaller effect on blood sugar than regular sugar, but not zero – and definitely not a license to eat unlimited sweets.
So many folks look for a shortcut, a trick to dodge the hard work of balanced eating. Whether it’s trehalose or another “better sugar,” the long-term goal should stay the same: eat foods closer to their natural state, and keep portions in check. It takes discipline, not just swapping one sweet substance for another.
Stepping into any health food store these days, the variety on the shelves can make your head spin. Trehalose may not sound as familiar as cane sugar or stevia, but it’s gained plenty of interest from bakers, athletes, and even researchers. This natural sugar shows up in mushrooms and some plants, tasting much like table sugar but bringing unique properties into your kitchen or laboratory.
Trehalose earned attention for its mild blood sugar impact and knack for keeping foods moist. Anyone baking gluten-free bread or making protein bars at home has likely run into the classic problem: dry, crumbly results. Swapping in some trehalose often leads to softer, more palatable products that stay fresh longer. In the food industry, it helps everything from chocolate to ice cream hang onto their texture and appeal. Athletes look for it because of slow, steady energy release.
Buying trehalose isn’t as simple as tossing cane sugar into your cart at the local grocery. Most shoppers can’t just walk to the nearest big-box store and pick it off the baking aisle. Online shopping stands as the easiest route. Stores specializing in food ingredients, like Nuts.com or BulkSupplements, offer food-grade trehalose. These sites ship across the country and let buyers choose between small home-friendly portions and hefty bags meant for commercial kitchens.
Health food retailers such as iHerb or PureBulk also stock it, sometimes grouping it with sports supplements or alternative sweeteners. Paying for a reputable brand pays off, especially for something you plan to eat. Sites like Amazon add extra convenience but can hide counterfeit or mislabeled goods among the genuine selections, so checking for third-party lab results or reviews makes sense before you click “buy.”
Brick-and-mortar specialty groceries catering to bakers, chefs, or those focused on natural living occasionally bring in trehalose, though it’s still not as mainstream as honey or coconut sugar. Most stores will special order if you ask, especially if you’re willing to take home a bulk quantity.
There’s an old saying: “Don’t eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize.” While trehalose doesn’t break that rule (showing up naturally in the diet of some cultures for generations), purity and source matter more than brand hype. Look at the COA (Certificate of Analysis) or ask sellers for quality certification, such as food-grade status or supplier transparency. I lean toward companies with clear details on where they make and package their products, even if the price runs a bit higher.
Don’t let claims about miracle benefits push you to overlook good science, either. Some studies tout digestive health perks or antioxidant effects, but research still unfolds in real time. If you’re diabetic or on a special diet, a chat with a healthcare professional keeps things safe.
Consumer interest in niche ingredients puts pressure on supply chains and sometimes sparks shortages or price jumps. Responsible production matters—not just for people buying online but for food security and fairness globally. Sourcing trehalose from companies that support sustainable practices lines up with health goals and helps set the market’s direction.
Trehalose may never become a staple in every household, and that’s okay. For those who need or want it—chefs, bakers, athletes, or even researchers—reliable access remains important. A little knowledge and careful shopping go a long way in making sure what lands in your pantry brings value, safety, and maybe a touch of sweetness.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | α-D-glucopyranosyl-(1→1)-α-D-glucopyranoside |
| Other names |
Trehalose dihydrate Mushroom sugar Mycose Lyozyme |
| Pronunciation | /ˈtriː.həˌloʊs/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | α,α-trehalose |
| Other names |
Trehalose dihydrate Mycose Trehalose anhydrous α,α-Trehalose α-D-Glucopyranosyl-(1→1)-α-D-glucopyranoside |
| Pronunciation | /ˈtriː.hə.loʊs/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 99-20-7 |
| Beilstein Reference | 3589247 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:18149 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1239 |
| ChemSpider | 54620 |
| DrugBank | DB01989 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.034.249 |
| EC Number | EC 3.2.1.28 |
| Gmelin Reference | 30276 |
| KEGG | C01083 |
| MeSH | D013747 |
| PubChem CID | 7427 |
| RTECS number | SY7660000 |
| UNII | WI4X0X7BPJ |
| UN number | UN2811 |
| CAS Number | 6138-23-4 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1771715 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:16551 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1230985 |
| ChemSpider | 33256 |
| DrugBank | DB01989 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.037.953 |
| EC Number | EC 3.2.1.28 |
| Gmelin Reference | 87499 |
| KEGG | C00208 |
| MeSH | D013742 |
| PubChem CID | 7427 |
| RTECS number | LU6010000 |
| UNII | M07TQ0VL7D |
| UN number | NONH |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C12H22O11 |
| Molar mass | 342.30 g/mol |
| Appearance | White crystalline powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.580 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | 68.9 g/100 mL (25 °C) |
| log P | -3.55 |
| Acidity (pKa) | 12.07 |
| Basicity (pKb) | pKb: 11.17 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.558 |
| Dipole moment | 2.45 D |
| Chemical formula | C12H22O11 |
| Molar mass | 342.30 g/mol |
| Appearance | White crystalline powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.58 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | 610 g/L (20 °C) |
| log P | -3.55 |
| Vapor pressure | Negligible |
| Acidity (pKa) | 12.34 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 18.10 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.558 |
| Dipole moment | 1.61 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 387.5 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -2225 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -2381 kJ mol⁻¹ |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 435.5 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -2207.8 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -5645.0 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A16AX11 |
| ATC code | A16AX11 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | May cause respiratory tract irritation. May cause eye irritation. May cause skin irritation. |
| GHS labelling | GHS labelling: Not a hazardous substance or mixture according to the Globally Harmonized System (GHS). |
| Pictograms | GHS07, GHS08 |
| Signal word | No signal word |
| Hazard statements | Non-hazardous |
| Flash point | 251°C |
| Autoignition temperature | > 400 °C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (oral, rat): > 10,000 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50: 15,000 mg/kg (rat, oral) |
| NIOSH | TT0525000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 10 mg/m³ |
| REL (Recommended) | 9.0 g/day |
| Main hazards | Not a hazardous substance or mixture. |
| GHS labelling | GHS labelling: Not a hazardous substance or mixture according to Regulation (EC) No. 1272/2008 (CLP/GHS). No pictogram, signal word, hazard, or precautionary statements required. |
| Pictograms | GHS07 |
| Signal word | No signal word |
| Hazard statements | Non-hazardous according to GHS classification. |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-0-0 |
| Flash point | 210 °C |
| Autoignition temperature | > 400 °C (752 °F; 673 K) |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (rat, oral): 15,800 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | Oral-rat LD50: 15,800 mg/kg |
| PEL (Permissible) | 15 mg/m³ |
| REL (Recommended) | 400 mg/kg bw |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Isomaltulose Maltose Sucrose |
| Related compounds |
Cellobiose Isomaltulose Maltose Sucrose Lactose |